History of Legion of Amun Ra

[Maokhan]

She screamed, scrambling forward. "No!"

Arwyne's shout behind her, "Kashta! We have to go, now!"

Kashta shoved her hand into the water, reaching for where he'd disappeared. A white mist hung in the water where his body should be, hiding him, never breaking the surface. "But he's right there!"

Poe's voice sounded from outside, her panic obvious even with the tinny, flat quality that colored everything from outside. "Arwyne! Kashta! Very, very large animals coming this way!"

Rhune's shout followed almost before Poe was done, "If you have aught to do, Freya, do it now!"

Arwyne spoke, her words hurried, persuasive. "That's not water, Kashta, it's a paradox, what you have there is no time. Which is what we have now...no time! Run!"

Gritting her teeth, Kashta looked back at the relentlessly closing obelisk, then the water that wasn't water. With an oath she pushed herself away, grabbing at Arwyne, both of them shoving through the nearly-impassable crack. What they saw when they emerged could have been from a nightmare.

Mammoths raced up the bridge, fanned out wide enough that there was no escape to either side. The dust kicked up from their frenzied run hid their numbers, but what she could see was plenty to finish them all off. Wind tore at their group, tore at Kashta and Arwyne as they moved away from the temple, the green and black sky lending an ominous light to everything, painting the mammoths in demonic colors. The grinding of the stone obelisk behind them as it neared it's final resting place added to the noise, added to the shouts and curses of her companions. They were all dead, all dead and Cach too, for even if they survived the mammoths, he had the necklaces, he had the only key to open up the damned temple.

Closer and closer they came, mere feet away, the closest one taking one more leaping stride forward as the obelisk ground to a halt, back where it started.

The elephants disappeared, the wind from their passage blowing the stink of their bodies over the group, the sudden silence almost pounding after the din.

Briesse exhaled with a loud sigh, her body trembling. She looked back at Arwyne and Kashta. Her voice wasn't quite steady. "Where's Cach? What happened?"

Arwyne moved forward to the group. "That was altogether too close." Her gaze flitted to Kashta, then back to Briesse. "He's in a place where time stands still."

They each relaxed somewhat, weapons lowering, bodies shaking in reaction. Kashta lowered herself to the ground, her face buried in her hands, ignoring the questions being peppered through the conversation around her, leaving Arwyne to answer them for a moment. Bah.

She lowered her hands, looking up at Arwyne with bleak eyes. "He took them both."

Arwyne responded with a low voice, "There are some doors beyond which there is no safety...sometimes terrible things must be done to close them. We've paid that terrible cost before and we may have to pay it again...maybe sooner than we would want."

A low, simmering anger burned in Kashta, but she pushed it away. There had to be something they could do. "The cost to close it, yes. But maybe we can open it again."

Poe's eyes were shrewdly watching her, her head tilted as she frowned. "What is it you're thinking?"

Kashta chewed on her lower lip before responding. "He's just....laying there. Maybe we can find something else to open it again."

Bri spoke up, calling attention to herself. "But...we did something, right? Cach entering with the two necklaces, it....did something important that needed to be done?"

Her anger blossomed into rage, rage at this woman, this situation, and Kashta trembled with the urge to shove her talons in that soft belly, slice her up and spill her blood in front of the temple where Cach lay. Arwyne looked at her with concern, then turned to Rhune, gesturing at Briesse. "Cut her free Rhune."

Poe's mutter was loud enough for Kashta to hear, but again it was in that gibberish. "Ég held að við ættum að drepa hana og láta líkamann rotna hana í sólinni."

Rhune cut the bindings on Briesse, his reply short, almost amused. "Aye, would simplify things."

A soft sigh escaped Bri as her bindings fell away, and she spoke again. "And he was dying before he did, so we prevented him dying of....whatever, at least, right?"

That was it. Arwyne answered something, but Kashta didn't care, wasn't listening, instead was on her feet and striding toward the red-headed bitch. "You...if you'd gotten him that bloody relic earlier, we could have done it differently, he could have come out with us. This is your fault. Get out, before I kill you here."

Briesse's eyes went wide, some response coming from her mouth. Kashta didn't care, didn't care, and cut her off. "Get out. Find your own way home, if you can. Don't even be near me right now....and if I see you again, if I ever get the chance, I'll finish this."

She pushed past the woman, walking down the land bridge toward the horses, almost scared of how close she'd been to losing control. Yes, she wanted to kill the woman...but not fast, not in a fit of anger. It would be so much better to savor it. Yes. Her breathing calmed as she reached their mounts, and she leaned against hers, resting her forehead on it's side.

She'd let the woman go, for now. Might even let her use the horse she'd come in on, to increase her chances of surviving the return.

But later, when she had the leisure to take her time with her....

Yes.

[Maokhan]

Chapter One "I hear the voice of rage and ruin"

The young man rushed into the back alley, making sure to stay to the shadows. His keeper, his friend had left him not but a few weeks ago, said he had some business to take care of in Stygia.

He kept repeating to himself that the "Cimmerian must have done it".

The Cimmerian must have done it.

As the young man traced the steps of his friend, he found himself in the merchant area of Khemi, surrounded by loud-mouth beggars asking for loose change, and even louder merchants peddling their useless wares.

He was headed for the Serpents Head Inn, he wasn't quite sure why, but he knew that was where he had to go. He was looking for Fynres, or maybe Kashta. Or both. Yes both. Or one at a time, but not both at the same time.

He was confused. All the voices told him where to go, but they all wanted him to go in different directions.

He shook the thoughts out of his head, and silently crept through the back streets of Khemi. He about jumped out of his skin when the old wooden sign of the Serpents Head crashed against it's post. "Oh...good", the young man said to himself as he walked up the weathered steps. He had found the place he was looking for, he wasn't quite sure how he did it, but at this point he just wanted to sit down...

[Maokhan]

When the young man first entered the Serpents Head, he couldn't help but notice the stale air that hung inside permeating all that entered. To him it smelled like the inside of someone's ear, or possibly their boot.

More than likely the inside of an ear though.

He quietly shuffled through the lobby, trying his hardest not to be seen. The tavern keep didn't even bother to look up at the young man, to which he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Even though he wore a mask, which he had done every time his father let him leave to go somewhere; he was still afraid of someone noticing his striking likeness to his old man.

The big room was empty for Almarus that day, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or saddened by that. He had come here looking for the Hounds, and hoped they could help him.

He would wait for them he decided. He would wait for them in that corner, right by the steps. What better place to wait, he mused to himself.

And wait he did...

[Maokhan]

Elsewhere in Stygia...

The doors to his cell creaked open, the blinding morning light blasting the Cimmerian. They hadn't fed him in at least a week, maybe longer. Even better, his captors taunted him with the bowl of water that lay just out of his reach. The humidity of this place was the only thing that kept him alive. The droplets of water that formed each morning on the stone walls where his only sustenance.

He had already slipped into rage well before this, the curse was kind enough to bring that to him. This situation, was not helping it at all.

He was already to dead to cry. Unlike the unfortunate soul who was just a cell or two away. He heard the man sob for the past two nights, praying out to whatever God it was. The women, the beautiful witches that tied him up and mangled his magnificent manhood...his stoic mantlepiece (it was truely a work of art), had gone about torturing that poor soul of a neighbor. Bull laughed to himself every time he heard the man sob and cry out, he heard the man cry out for Briesse and through the sessions he knew where he could find the woman that killed his father.

Briesse Bloodmane. The Cimmerian did it.

She would pay.

When the cell door finally stopped opening, an arduous process meant to captivate a person inside the cell, the two Stygian women stepped inside. Both were pretty, Bull would freely admit to that. Though both women had a few things wrong in their head, he was sure of that.

He stood up, just as the Stygian-in-Charge began to speak.

"Ready to talk yet, Bull?", she said through her wicked smile.

Bull raised his head, his lips cracked and his throat dry, he managed to cough out a reply. "Water..."

The Stygian obliged, nodding at the other woman who scooped a ladle full of water from the trough, bringing it to the lips of their prisoner.

The big Cimmerian graciously took the drink, wetting his lips and clearing his throat.

"I thank ya, and ma' fatha' thanks ya too", he said with a smile.

Impatient as ever, the Stygian witch spoke again. "Either you can talk now, or we can keep you locked up here until you die."

Bull smiled at his captor, his gleaming white teeth glimmering in the sun. He moved as close to the woman as his binds would allow him.

"About what?", he replied...his accent suddenly vanishing.

It went on like that for the next four hours. Bull refusing to give up any information, and the team of Kashta and Pashen threatening to scar the man further. (Really, it was a work of art...like a Rembrandt) At some point in their interrogation, another Stygian showed up, one that spoke the Northerners tongue. She wasn't as impatient as the others, almost understanding of Bull's ability to keep stern in the face of death.

In truth, Bull would have been relieved if these women would have struck him down. His burden, his curse had tortured him for years now. To the point where the man hardly slept, in fear of what would come to him. It was bad enough reliving all of your worst nightmares, but to be forced to watch others...ones that dared to touch you, suffer the same fate was just to much. He had learned to harness it through the years, to use it to his advantage. Once someone touched him, he was given the opportunity to learn everything he needed to know about the person...and to judge them for their crimes.

Eventually he told them what he knew. He had played the game long enough, and through their ramblings he knew, at least Kashta, was loyal to the Aquilonian. Even though he indicated otherwise to rile her up. The other woman, however, had something wrong with her. Something wasn't right in her head.

When Kashta got close enough to Bull, he reached out and grabbed her hand. The other woman grabbed for their weapons, but they didn't have enough time to stop Bull. He pulled her closer, making her hand touch his relic. The room fell silent as she dropped to her knees, a cry of the painful memory coursing through her body.

The woman now understood that no amount of physical torture would effect the Cimmerian, that her normal tactics were just not enough.

Reality snapped back for Bull. Kashta bore the mark of the martyr, and she would need Bull to tell her how to get rid of it. Bull would need Kashta to help find Briesse.

Bull negotiated his release for the information, to which the terms were accepted. He told her how to summon the demon child, that she would need to seek out the Locust if she truely wished to save Cach.

As Bull walked out of they city in the swamps, he had only one thing on his mind.

Briese Bloodmane. The Cimmerian would pay.

[Maokhan]

Back in Khemi...

He scratched at the wall, keeping his attention elsewhere. He thought fondly of how simple life was before all of this. If he would have just left that box alone, if he had just not been distracted by odd beauty of the necklace...he would be sitting at home right now.

Instead here he was in Khemi, sitting on a chamber pot and straining to rid his bowels of the fiberous mess he had been eating over the last few weeks. Cimmerian berries had never done the young man any favors, and certainly not today.

He cleaned himself up, and buckled up his trousers. He looked down at the pot, not quite knowing what to do with it. He was certain someone would come along and take care of it, he figured it was someones job. He let it fester there as he left the closed off room.

He made his way back downstairs, and walked into a bustling room full of all types of people. A smile crept across his face, underneath the mask, as he took up his place by the stairs. This time he was accompanied by a young woman, she might have been a few years older than Almarus. She looked like she had just rolled around in some dirt, her clothes packed with mud and little bits of garbage and blood. He had hoped it wasn't human blood, but he wasn't a purveyor of blood make-up so he had no clue.

The young woman took a step to her left, her hand steadying on her blades. Almarus, in turn, took a step to the right, distancing himself from the woman. They exchanged awkward glances, and Almarus noticed the woman's breathing begin to pick up. He quickly concentrated on the post to his right, scratching at it hoping to blend into the atmosphere.

"There is a rabbit and a fox in my fathers field. He does not like either of them.", she said as she nodded quickly. "Are..are you a rabbit or a fox?"

Almarus stopped scratching at the post, his gaze falling on the womans readied blades. He quickly moved away from her, darting across the room.

As soon as he figured he was far enough way, he glared at the woman from behind the potted plants. "Stupid boy...you should have said fox.", he said to himself under his breath. He slowly made his way back to the front of the Inn, past the alcove of people speaking quietly, past the strange Stygian sipping tea and watching everyone. He positioned himself close enough to all parties, so that he could hear everyone. He scratched at this post too, watching the young woman carefully.

He gathered up the courage to speak to her, he wanted to answer her question. Still scratching at the post, he spoke rather quickly and loudly. "Am I still in your fathers field, or am I ok over here?"

The room fell silent, and Almarus was suddenly quite aware of how loud he just was. The young woman in his previous corner glared at him from under her hood.

Almarus, still scratching feverishly at the post spoke quieter and directly at her.

"Wou-Would you like something to drink?"

She nodded quickly. "Juice."

Almarus darted to the counter, asking the tavernkeep for juice.

"Melon or cactus?", the portly tavern owner asked.

"Cactus does not make juice, only make water. Cactus juice is water.", Almarus quipped.

The tavernkeep stared blankly at the young man as he handed over a glass of Melon juice. The boy put down some coin and carefully picked up the glass and brought it back to the young woman.

He found her sitting at the table, and the other parties mysteriously gone. He hadn't noticed them walk past him, but then again he was debating the finer arts of juice capabilities in desert plants.

He approached the young woman, his hand outstretched with the glass. She took it from him and set it down in front of her.

"Can, can I sit here?", Almarus asked quickly. She was the only person he had spoken to in the last month, and the only person close to his age that he had seen in a long time.

She pointed to the opposite seating, and Almarus nodded quickly as he took his seat.

"You wear a mask, and carry a dagger. I take it you are in the same business as I am.", she questioned Almarus.

He quickly shook his head, clearly confused at what she was talking about.

"I, I have always wore a mask for as long as I can remember, my father makes me wear it.", he replied cautiously.

He tapped at his breastplate nervously, a habit he picked up from his father. The young woman cocked her head to the side, her eyes widening.

"Are you sick?", she sternly asked the boy.

"No...no...why?"

"Tell me who you are!", she reached for her blades before her words ever finished.

"I'm, I am Almarus."

The woman settled herself, her eyes darting across the room.

"Why were you standing next to me?", she asked as her body relaxed back into her seat.

"I-I was standing there before you got here. I am looking for the Hell Hound Fynres."

She nodded slowly, her face void of expression.

"Wha, What do you want with Fynres?", her complexion changed quickly from sterness to fear.

"I think he can help me. Yes, help. Me. Help me.", he said hurriedly. He had already broken the rules that Bull had given him...to never say his name, so he figured if she was going to kill him she already would have.

"Help you with what?", she questioned.

"With something."

"Answer me and I might be able to tell you were to find him."

The young man sighed, he didn't really want to tell her...he felt foolish that he couldn't protect himself at his age already.

"My father said they would protect me if he ever had to go away."

She nodded quickly at his reply. She was smarter than people would believe, she knew who the boy was and she seized the opportunity for Cach to have to owe her a favor.

She told the boy where he could find Fynres, and Kashta. She told them the usual hangouts of the Hell Hounds. As Almarus was gathering his things to go find them, she spoke.

"Tell Fynres a little Black Bird sent you, and that he owes me something."

Almarus nodded as he stood up.

"Black Bird, got it."

[Maokhan]

Chapter Two Hope you are quite prepared to die

The little bird led him to the Hell Hounds, where Almarus found Fynres. It was clearly evident to the band of marauders who this boy was, just by looking at his face. The son of their Commander, and now their sole duty was to protect the boy while Cach was...gone.

"I think he's dead", was the boy's first words spoken of his fathers disappearance.

Fynres assured him that was not the case. But with the appearance of Bull and Almarus in such a short time, all the pieces were coming together quickly and the future looked to dire consequences for all of them.

---------

Days later Almarus sat down in the sand, near the waters edge. He rocked back and forth holding the palms of his hands to his ears. It had become to much, the voices in his head, the curse that he took, was eating at his fragile mind.

He reached for his satchel, his hand diving deep for it's contents, coming back with rolls of parchment, ink and a quill.

He sat there that day, and drew what he heard.

He drew the fire that cascaded Abydos, the evil that rolled like mist down the Styxx. He drew his friend Bull holding the red-haired Cimmerian by her throat only to be downed by the Black Bird. He drew Fynres in pain, clutching his eye. He drew Kashta being taken by the mist and he drew nothing.

Piece by piece these drawings where analyzed by the Hounds, to the best of their knowledge. Arwyne assured his people that these things, these foresights, were not set in stone. That they could be changed.

The Hell Hounds set out that night with Kashta in tow. They went looking for the Demon Crow, Angwunsomataqa. They went looking for answers.

[Maokhan]

Bull takes a step on to the dock in Khemi, the worn out wood creaking in protest underneath the Cimmerians weight. He inhales deeply, taking in the dry desert air. He turns his head to the side, towards the drifter approaching the big man with trepidation.

"Alm-....Alms for the needy?"

Bull spits at the mans feet, baring his teeth like a wolf after his prey.

"Tell me, git...why do' this place smell like an arse?"

The beggar stares blankly at Bull, his face covered in the awful angst of that dire need to eat.

"Aye, an' no answa'?", Bull steps off the dock onto the sand covered cobblestone. "All ya wan' is coin?", he asks as his gaze pierces the beggar.

The man nods curtly, acutely aware of the big man standing nearly on his toes now.

"I giv' ya 'at. Tell me where I can' find Briesse an' I feed all ya 'ant."

The beggar stands up straight, his voice cracking from the dry heat.

"I-I know no Briesse."

Bull growls at the man, a deep bellow that sends the beggar two steps backwards.

"An what ya know of Featha'?"

The man shakes his head, his face turning pale. He was lying, and Bull knew it. The Cimmerian smiled at the beggar, throwing a coin at his feet.

"Wash yerself up, ya smell like a camel."

Bull turned around to grab his belongings, giving a grunt as he heaved the large wooden box on to his shoulder. He'd find Briesse Bloodmane, even if he had to kill a few locals first.

He looked back at the beggar, who had picked the coin up in haste and was off to find his next pursuit. As Bull walked away from the docks he could hear the words faintly coming from the beggar.

"He-he asked for her."

[Maokhan]

The Hell Hounds left Almarus to his bidding. He was busy playing in the sand, looking for special rocks. At least that's what Fynres told himself. The boy was odd, but Fynres was willing to take him as his own. Even going so far as coining him as "Pup".

As far as their current journey went, the group had grew tired of all the riddles and half-sayings Almarus was spitting out. They questioned the drawings, and they most certainly questioned what to do next.

That big Cimmerian so aptly named Bull had told Kashta to seek out the child, and to do so they had to get deep into the swamps. As they wandered through the muck, with no sight of any child, human or otherwise, they began to think they were duped into freeing Bull. He had the keen ability to manipulate someones mind afterall, but did he bother to do that with the Dark Mistress? She was so eager to retrieve the Commander from the Temple, that maybe she overlooked something.

Just before sunset, deep in the Lotus Swamps beyond any sign of the small outposts, through the clearing and behind a long forgotten idol of Set...stood an old Stygian women. Her body was d****d in loose linen, her haggard skin torched by the Stygian sun hung from her bones like a horses saddle. As they neared the woman, their skin began to crawl...the hair on their arms standing at attention.

Kashta was the first to speak. "Angwunsomataqa?", she asked.

The old woman shook her head, speaking in a hiss.

"You sss-eek the crow?"

The group looked at eachother and nodded in unison. Sure...the crow, that's what they sought.

At this point, Fynres at least, sought out some water. His Zamoran body still wasn't acclimated to this cursed swamp.

"Then the crow sss-peak-sss", the old woman hissed in reply to the nods.

From the pond filled with lilies and all matter of insects came a young boy, maybe three years of age. He skipped merrily through the shore of the pond, picking up stones on his way. As he reached the group, he looked up at the older woman who gave the boy a nod.

The boy stood at attention in front of the old Stygian, her hands resting on his shoulder. His hair was full of mange, it of the brightest blonde to ever be seen. His eyes were wild, their blue hue lighting up the dusk that now settled in the swamps.

He spoke to the group. "Pashen, Kashta and Fynres.", the boy nodded. They were told to never look the boy in his eyes, but Fynres found himself unable to stop staring. The Zamoran found himself unable to move, his will to stand before the child waning. Just as Fynres was at his weakest, the boy turned his gaze elsewhere, giving Fynres his freedom.

"You come to ask about the Locust?", the boy asked even though he already knew the answer.

Pashen was quick to reply, she just wanted the answers and to get out of this place. "Yes, Locust."

The boy shrugged at the group, looking up at the old Stygian who smiled. He left her side and returned to the swamp, occasionally picking up rocks and examining them.

The old Stygian spoke to the group.

"The Locu-sss-t is not man like you", she pointed at Fynres. "He is-sss sss-eeking the de-sss-truction of Hyboria, through the power of the Temple."

Kashta stepped forward, finding the bravado to get closer to the old woman. "How do we stop him then?", she asked.

"You must sss-ave Ca-sss-h to sss-top him. You...", the old woman pointed to Kashta's no sickly grey arm, "do not have the sss-trength or knowledge."

"But...Cach is in the Temple.", Kashta said with a frown.

The old woman only nodded.

"You must free him of his binds."

The boy returned, in his hands were five obsidian stones that he had plucked from the pond. He placed the five stones on the ground at his feet. He looked to the ground at the stones as he spoke.

"Destiny, destiny is the rising sun.", the boy began. "Aponi, the butterfly, knows not of destiny. Ayasha Awanata, the little turtle, knows of destiny. He knows it will take him a long time to get there. Cha'Risa, the elk, always chooses to ignore his destiny." The boy continued to speak, "Awentia, the fawn, accepts her destiny and chooses to obey it. Chosovi, the blue bird can accept the destiny but instead tries to change it."

The looks on the groups face was pure confusion. The boy continued on. He knelt down to pick up the first stone, he flipped it in his hand as he spoke. "Cach is much like Ayasha Awanta." The boy caught the rock mid-air and threw it into the pond, it's smooth surface skipping over the water like it was glass.

He picked up the second rock and motioned for Kashta to hold it. As Kashta stepped forward to take the rock, the boy spoke again. "Chosovi much like the Martyr. Kreig, he accept his destiny but still try to change it. Like you. You took on the Martyr's curse and now you will pay for his destiny."

Kashta frowned, her greyed arm flexing as she turned to walk back to the group.

The boy motioned for Fynres to step forward, and Fynres followed suit. The boy placed the rock into the Zamoran's hand, closing it around it. "Cha'Risa, you are much like that Zamoran. You are Judgment."

Fynres looked back to the group before replying to the child. "Bull is judgment?", he questioned.

The boy nodded. "You must take that from him, if you want to save Cach and find Locust."

Fynres nodded and returned back to his post.

The boy picked up the fourth rock and motioned for Pashen, who had a wild look in her eyes. She hadn't expected to be called on, this wasn't fortold by Almarus. He only said that Fynres would be called on. She moved forward regardless.

The boy placed the rock in her palm and closed her hand around it as he spoke. "Aponi, like the boy. He not know of destiny. You have to take it from him, take him to the altar in Aquilonia. Save the young man from his pain."

Pashen nodded, disbelief on her face. The last thing she needed was a curse, but she was willing to do whatever it took to help her friends.

Kashta pointed at the remaining rock as she spoke. "What of the fifth rock? Is that Sin?"

The boy shook his head as he picked up the remaining stone. "The sin was already cast. You cannot have this one."

Kashta looked at the boy, frustration in her voice. "But there are five relics! Cach has two and we only know of the other two! How are we supposed to rescue Cach and destroy the Temple without all five?"

The boy shrugged, throwing the stone into the pond.

"Not five, only four. It takes two to open and four to close it.", the boy spoke. "Youth and Judgment can open it, and that is what you need."

The boy skipped back to the pond where he began playing in the water. The group stood in dismay over what just happened. They came here looking for answers, and all they got where stones instead. They each looked at each other in bewilderment.

Pashen broke the silence, speaking the old Stygian woman.

"What of the Locust? How do we get to him?"

The woman shook her head slowly. "You can summon him at the altar in Aquilonia. But he will find you first."

Pashen stood there, frustration evident on her face.

"Where is the altar?"

"You can find it in the valley between the canyons in Poitain. There you will need the stones to transfer the relics power from Almarus to you, and only then can you ask for Locust."

The group nodded. Finally a straightforward answer. The turned to look at eachother, a stone in each of their hands. They looked back to the woman in the child, but instead found an empty platform and a pond as still as the night air.

They left the swamps that night, more confused than ever, but at least they had some rocks.

[Maokhan]

Bull stood at the bottom of the stone steps leading to the Serpents Head Inn. The wooden sign that indicated this as a place of interest swayed in the warm breeze. From beyond he could hear the protesting of the merchants in the bazaar. He was fairly certain this was the place that the little girl Feather had dragged his unconscious body to.

He walked up the steps, passing by the collection of Stygian wh*res that assembled outside, and in to the Inn.

The stale air inside reminded Bull of what his house smelled like after eating to much elk stew. The rancid air, compounded with the rotund owner of the establishment amused the Cimmerian. He was fully aware that he was likely walking into a snake pit, but he was prepared for what could happen.

To his further amusement he found several Cimmerians lounging around a table. "Oh, how far the superior race had fallen.", he thought to himself as he approached them. Not a single one of the men, flanked by waitresses and wh*res alike (although in this place, they usually are both), bothered to look up at the man. He smiled to himself as he took a small leather-made purse and dropped on the table between all of them.

"Aye, 'at-ll go ta' tha furst man ta tell me of Briesse Bloodmane."

The biggest of the Cimmerians, still wearing the black face paint of war looked up at him with a sh!t-eating grin.

"How much?"

Bull pointed to the leather purse, motioning with his hand for the man to open it.

"'at be a lot of coin fer one girl", the man exclaimed.

Bull just shrugged, he wouldn't need coin where he was headed.

The man at the table looked to his company and then back to Bull.

"she be in Aquilonia, Green Man Tavern"

Bull nodded at the assembled Cimmerians.

"I thank ya, and mah fatha' thanks ya."

He left the Serpents Head Inn, relieved that the dry air outside at least took the sting out of his nose. He ventured through the bazaar, avoiding the screaming merchants who offered him everything from young men to chickens. He would be glad to rid himself of this forsaken country, and now he was headed to Tarantia.

Briesse Bloodmane would be found, and he would deliver on his promise.

[Maokhan]

Bull stepped away from the caravan that led him to Old Tarantia. His legs moaned in protest as he walked up the path leading into the city. He had a cramp riding up into his thigh, the end product of spending to much time sitting in the coach along the bumpy paths leading from outpost to outpost.

Walking through the streets and alleyways of the districts, he was relieved of the overall quietness of this city compared to the loud dankness of Khemi. Instead of the overwhelming panhandlers and street urchins, this city was filled with Nobles and Politicians (as if the later was any different from the former). He paused for a second at the Mitran Temple, a shudder going up his spine. If only the denziens knew what happened beneath that Temple...

The big man's thought was cut short as he found himself standing in the alley leading to the Greenman. Gathered outside were a few drunkards...but between them was his prize. Briesse Bloodmane, but she wasn't alone.

Bull assessed the situation, she was flanked by an oppressive looking man, standing a head and shoulder above her. The man compared in size to Bull. They seemed to be talking in hushed tones about something, but Bull wasn't stupid enough to try to get any closer. He ducked under a nearby overhang, watching the two gesticulate wildly.

He'd hate to have to kill the man...

Bull sat quietly on the porch, waiting for the other man to move along. Instead they stepped inside the Greenman, and Bull was forced to wait on the outside.

Hours later, just as Bull's eyes became heavy, Briesse emerged from the Tavern, alone. She walked right past where Bull was standing, lost in her own world, oblivious to the big man who was now stalking her.

Bull watched as she loaded materials on to a horse-drawn cart, emblazoned with the symbol of some trading company. He patiently sat amongst the trees as she checked her cargo twice over, before finally embarking on her journey.

The big Cimmerian found it odd that she would travel alone, but maybe she thought herself to be safe here in Aquilonia.

He laughed to himself as he jumped the fence to the stables, quietly liberating a steed that suited his weight.

He followed the woman, a short journey into the Wild Lands.